So Tired Of Living, Misunderstood
by lp070
Summary: Some alarming secrets from Neal's past are revealed when a woman with piercing blue eyes appears at a crime scene. Neal doesn't want to talk about it. Peter does. Set somewhere in season 2.
1. Chapter 1

**Hope you like it!**

Neal Caffrey walked, or strutted, rather, into the offices of the FBI with an excited grin on his face. Everyone's eyes turned to him. He had a way about him that automatically made him the center of attention everywhere he went. He was arrogant and humble, outgoing and reserved, and refined and dangerous all at the same time. Even those who hated him had a certain level of respect for him. Or maybe it was just jealousy. He was the kind of guy who could have even the most tightly wound women fumbling over their words. It was not just a matter of his looks, which he definitely was not lacking in. It was the charismatic manner in which he conducted all aspects of his life. He was perfect, seemingly, but, unfortunately for him, he had several flaws, which he carried with him around his ankle. An electronic monitoring anklet which he was required to wear at all times. Although many of the women who he had met over the years would be shocked to hear it, he was a criminal. A thief. A con-artist. A forger. More amazing, however, was the fact that this seemingly perfect man had gotten caught. Of course, it hadn't been an easy capture, but in the end, he was just as low and criminal as the other convicts who he was locked away with.

Neal made his way across the floor, completely bypassing his desk and heading straight for his partner's office. If he had been told four years ago that he would soon be working as a consultant for the FBI, he would have laughed. Sure, he could respect them for finally bringing him in, but working with them? Well, that was a whole other story. They were exactly the serious, boring, supposedly-intelligent people he had stolen from in the past. He certainly wasn't going to give up his thrilling life of crime to sit at a desk all day and do paperwork. Or, so he thought.

He reached his partner's door at the top of the stairs and knocked twice before walking in without even a response. He took his seat across from the desk and placed his hat on his knee. Peter Burke sat across from him with a case file in his hands. Alright, maybe he could have accepted getting caught, and maybe he would have been able to see himself working for the FBI, temporarily of course, but never, in a million years, could he have imagined that he, the infamous Neal Caffrey, would become partners with Peter Burke, the FBI agent who had finally caught him. Yet, here they were, and the strangest part was, he enjoyed it. Both of them did. The whole arrangement had started as a way for him to get out of prison for a girl, but now the girl was dead, most of his old friends had completely shut him out after hearing of his new work, and for some reason, he was still here.

"You're here early," Peter commented with amused smile. "I guess you got my message." Only a half hour earlier, Neal had received a message from Peter, telling him of their newest case: a robber at one of the most expensive jewelry boutiques in the city. Neal, of course, had rushed over right away. This wasn't their usual mortgage fraud case. This was going to be fun.

"Yeah. Can we go?" Neal was perched at the edge of his seat, trying to read the case file in Peter's hands.

Peter laughed at his consultant's eagerness, "What? You haven't been enjoying that paperwork I left for you?" Neal glared at him angrily. "Alright. Alright. Let's go." Neal shot up from his chair, flipped his hat back on, and quickly left the office with Peter following closely behind.

The two pulled up in front of the jewelry store fifteen minutes later. Neal had carefully read through the case file on the way there and then spent the rest of the trip excitedly tapping on the car door. It wasn't the most well planned heist. It looked to him like a two man team, they had picked the lock on the door, which triggered the alarm, but they avoided the cameras and were in and out in less than two minutes, so by the time the cops arrived, they were gone. Along with thousands of dollars worth of jewelry. Finding them wouldn't be a problem, Neal was sure of that, but he was so eager to get out of the office, he didn't really care what level of work they were dealing with.

"These guys could learn a thing or two from you," Peter said, getting out of the car and looking into the boutique from the sidewalk. Neal stood on the other side of the car and followed Peter's gaze. The store was a mess. Even from the street, he could tell that the place would be full of prints and evidence. The majority of the glass display cases had been completely shattered, leaving the floor covered with a layer of glass. Neal could see immediately that the men who had done this were complete amateurs. Only the cases in the front half of the store had been robbed. The back display cases were left entirely untouched. Anyone who had ever done such a heist before would know that the most valuable items were kept in the back cases. The ones these guys had missed. Neal shook his head in disgust. He would enjoy bringing these kids in. He followed Peter over to the store. They were about to let themselves in, when Neal's eyes fell on the woman standing in the center of the room.

"I—I think I'm going to—um—wait in the car," he said quickly and turned around, leaving a very confused Peter standing at the door.

"What?" Peter called after him. Neal didn't answer, though. He opened the passenger door, got in, and slammed the door shut. Peter was about to follow him, when one of the woman in the store let him in.

"Thank you so much for coming. We've been a complete mess this morning. We really hope you can help us," the young woman led him inside.

"Yeah. I—I hope I can too," Peter turned around, looking back at his consultant now pouting in the front seat of his car.

"I'm Jennifer. I'm the owner," she held out her hand, which Peter graciously shook. "This is Kathryn. She closed up last night and was the first to arrive this morning," Peter turned to address the woman he was introduced to, but his breath got caught in his throat the moment he laid eyes on her. She was older than Jennifer, probably in her late fifties, early sixties. She had curly brown hair with streaks of gray scattered around her roots. Even standing beside the young, blonde who had introduced herself as the owner, Kathryn was beyond gorgeous. This wasn't what had shocked Peter, however. It was her eyes that had left his head spinning. They were the brightest shade of blue you could imagine, and he would have been stunned by their distinctiveness it he didn't see those same eyes every single day. They were his partners. He had glared angrily into those eyes enough times to be certain that these were a perfect match.

"I'm Agent Peter Burke with the white collar division of the FBI," Peter said, trying to act as naturally as he could. "My partner, Neal Caffrey, is just waiting in the car," he had spoken the younger man's name just so he could say the woman's reaction. There was definitely a level of recognition in her familiar eyes, but she seemed puzzled by it, as if she couldn't quite place it. She thought about it for a moment and then shook it off.

"Will he be joining us?" Jennifer asked, confused by Peter's words.

"Actually, no. He—" Peter trailed up. Neal was the one who always came up with the clever lies. He was drawing a blank. "No. Just me," he said stupidly. Both women gave him a puzzled look, but then went on to fill him in on the details. Peter was hardly paying attention, though. He couldn't take his eyes off of Kathryn and her piercing blue eyes. He would definitely need to have a word with Neal back at the car.

**What do you think? Should I continue? Yes. No. Let me know! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who's reading and everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I really, really, really appreciate it!**

Peter finally joined Neal in the front seat of the car after an hour of questioning and collecting evidence. It had been a much more difficult job without his consultant, but he had managed. Neal hadn't moved from his place in the passenger seat. He sat entirely still with his eyes focused out the window opposite the boutique. He didn't seem to notice Peter's presence when he got in the driver's seat and turned the car on. They drove for several minutes in silence before Peter finally allowed himself to bring it up.

"Who is she?" he asked, his eyes focused on the road. "Aunt? Sister? Cousin?" Neal didn't say anything. "Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about—"

"She's my mother," Neal said so quietly that Peter almost had to ask him to repeat himself.

"Your mother?" he certainly hadn't expected that. Of course, he didn't know anything about Neal's family other than the fact that his father had died when Neal was just a kid.

"Yeah, and if you don't mind, I'm just going to stick with paperwork while you work on this case," Neal's eyes were still on the street outside.

"I don't think so. I don't keep you around to do paperwork," Peter said, shaking his head. "Why are you trying to avoid her?" he wasn't going to let Neal get off the subject so easily.

"I haven't seen her since I left home," Neal explained, trying not to sound at all emotionally connected to the conversation.

"Since you left home or since you ran away from home?"

"Is there a difference?" Neal shrugged. He was starting to get annoyed with Peter's sudden curiosity in his past. Usually, they were perfectly content with their adopted policy of _don't ask, don't tell. _Peter didn't ask, and Neal definitely didn't tell. Neal sighed. "I ran away from home when I was 17."

"Why?" Peter pushed. He had already expected this, but now that Neal was letting him in just a little, he figured he would find out as much as he could.

"It doesn't matter, okay? Just drop it," Neal shot angrily. Peter fell silent, realizing he had gone too far. They got half way to the office when a sudden, nagging thought popped into Peter's head. He knew something was bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on exactly what that was until now.

"Neal," the younger man looked annoyed at being addressed again, but turned to his partner anyway. He figured he would at least humor him. "Why didn't she say anything when I brought your name up?"

"What?" Neal blurted out. His face turned pale and his eyes darted to Peter's face.

"I told them that my partner, _Neal Caffrey_, was in the car. She didn't say anything. She looked…confused…but she didn't say anything," he thought about what he was saying for a second. "If she hasn't seen her son in over ten years and all of I sudden his name pops up at a crime scene, wouldn't she at least _react_?" Neal didn't answer. He twisted his hand in a knot and stared blankly out the windshield. He couldn't let this happen. His life with Peter and June and Mozzie and the FBI was not the same life he had before. He couldn't let them mix. "Neal?"

"I heard you," Neal hissed. Peter looked nervously at his friend's outburst. He had never seen him react in such a way. They had just pulled up at the office, and Neal got out of the car before Peter could even stop him. He watched as the younger man slammed the car door shut and then stormed away into the building.

* * *

"Are you ready to talk yet?" Peter asked, approaching Neal's desk later that night. He had left his consultant alone at his desk all day, but now almost everyone else had gone home. Neal didn't even look up from his work. "Why don't we go into my office?" Peter suggested hopefully. Neal sighed and looked up at him. A wave of guilt washed over him. He knew Peter was just trying to help. As strange as it was to admit it, they had become friends working together. It had taken time and a great deal of effort on both of their parts, but they trusted each other now. They cared for each other. If Peter was pushing this so hard, Neal knew that telling him was in his own best interest. He flicked his hat onto his desk and stood up.

"Yeah. Sure," Neal said quietly, and he followed Peter up to his office. He didn't take his usual seat. Instead, he paced nervously around the room. Peter watched from the corner of his desk.

"Can we talk now?" Peter looked at Neal cautiously, as if he was going to snap at any second.

"What do you want to know?" Neal gave him a defeated look. Peter couldn't help but feeling a little guilty, but he shrugged it off.

"First of all," he began, perhaps a bit too eagerly, but before he could ask he noticed a woman who had wandered into the office looking incredibly lost, and his heart sank. Kathryn. He watched as the woman got half way across the floor before she was stopped by Jones. They talked briefly, and then Jones pointed towards Peter's office where he and Neal were now trapped. "Shit," Peter mumbled under his breath. Neal looked up in surprise. He rarely ever heard the older man swear. He followed his friend's gaze and fell into the same state of disappointment.

"No," he looked around the room frantically. "Peter, she can't see me," he said urgently. He couldn't let her see him. Not before he told Peter everything. He wouldn't understand. What if he sent him back? Before he even got a chance to explain.

"It's fine," Peter said calmly. "I'll try to get rid of her," he crossed the room and opened the door just enough to let himself out and then quickly closed it. Kathryn stood before him, just ready to knock.

"Oh," she said in surprise. "Agent Burke."

"Hi. I—um—I was actually just leaving. Is everything okay?" why was it that when it came to issues of Neal, he was a complete disaster? He had caught the man hadn't he? Surely, by now he would be an expert at handling this kind of thing.

"Actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you in your office for a moment," she eyed the closed door curiously. She peaked in through the large glass window, but Neal had just avoided it.

"How about I get you some coffee, and we can meet in the conference room?" Peter asked hopefully. He felt as if he were harboring a fugitive. Although, really, that was exactly what he was doing. Wasn't it? If he didn't trust that Neal would explain everything afterward, he would have let Kathryn in right away, but he had to give him a chance to talk.

"I really hoped to talk in private," Kathryn said, eyeing the conference room, which still had a few stragglers working on a case in it. She attempted to push past Peter to get into his office, but he threw his arm across the door frame.

"Now's actually not a good time," he said as he fumbled to lock his office door. "I really have to get going. If you could come in tomorrow…"

"Then maybe I could talk to your partner," Kathryn interrupted. Their eyes met and both knew what the other was thinking.

"My—my partner?" Peter questioned. Maybe if he played stupid, she would just leave.

"Yes, Agent Burke, your partner. Neal Caffrey. Is he here?" she looked around the office. Her eyes fell expectantly on Peter's door.

"No. He—um—he already left," Peter knew that Neal was laughing at his bumbling from the other side of the door. He rolled his eyes at the thought.

"Then why is his hat still on his desk?" Kathryn folded her arms across her chest. Peter looked down at Neal's desk. Sure enough, his hat sat on top of his stack of paperwork.

"Excuse me?"

"His hat, Agent Burke, it's still on his desk," it was apparent that she was starting to get annoyed with the agent. "I would like to speak with him."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that's a good idea," Peter sighed. If Neal had been in his position, he would have easily talked his way out of it.

"I didn't ask what you thought. I would like to see him. I'm assuming he's in your office," she pushed past him and knocked anxiously on his door, but there was no response on the other end. "Open this door," she ordered, but then quickly threw in a, "please." Peter looked from her to his locked door. If Neal had run away when he was 17, if she hadn't seen him in ten years, if she really thought that he was on the other side of that door, was it fair for him to keep her out. He would let Neal explain later. He would understand, wouldn't he?

"Okay," Peter mumbled as he pulled out his key and opened the door for her. His heart was pounding nervously, but when he looked into his office, he found that there was no need for it. The room was empty.

"Oh," Kathryn said, staring at the room in disbelief. "I just thought…I'm so sorry, Agent Burke. You must think…I'm sorry," she apologized about a dozen more times before finally excusing herself. Peter couldn't help but notice that she was wiping away tears as she left. Once he was sure she was out of ear shout, Peter turned to face the empty office.

"Neal," he whispered. "Where in god's name are you?" even he hadn't expected that kind of disappearing act from the consultant.

"I'm down here," Neal's voice announced from underneath Peter's desk, and a moment later he poked his head up. "Is she gone?"

"Yeah, but you definitely have some explaining to do."

"I know. I know," Neal slumped down into Peter's chair, and Peter stood across from him with his back leaning against the window. Neither of them even noticed Kathryn reentering the office. "You know my dad died when I was two," Peter nodded. "My mom and I took care of ourselves most of the time. She had a few boyfriends, but none of them ever stuck. Anyway—" Neal stopped. He had just allowed his eyes to wander down to the bullpen, and, sure enough, Kathryn was standing beside his desk staring up at him.

**Reviews are what help the writer's block….**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews! Please keep 'em coming! Also, kudos to speck211 for noticing the Mika quote. Yes, the title is from the Mika song, "Blue Eyes". It seemed appropriate! Good song too…**

Neal shot up immediately. Kathryn was now rushing towards them. She tripped slightly on the stairs before finally reaching Peter's, now open, door. Neal didn't say anything. His eyes widened, trying to take in everything that he was seeing. His brain couldn't keep up.

"Nick," Kathryn's voice cracked as tears began to stream down her face. Neal remained still, unable to speak or move. Peter looked from one to the other. "Nick," Kathryn repeated. Peter turned to Neal in confusion. Neal's eyes were on Peter, desperately seeking some kind of assistance. "Nick, please," she pleaded, "just say something."

"I—" Neal started, but quickly cleared his throat when his voice came out in a rasp. "You should go." He had never felt guiltier. His mother's face twisted as she tried to hold back the flood of tears that was threatening the corners of her eyes.

"I'm not leaving," she said forcefully. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but everything about his body language was warning her against it.

"I think it would just be easier for all of us if—" Neal said, not letting his eyes meet hers, but she quickly interrupted him.

"We thought you were dead," this came as more of a surprise to Peter than her unfamiliar addressing of him had. Neal was about to protest. He wanted to make her leave, to make Peter forget he had even heard any of this. He was right, it would make everything easier, but Kathryn had given way to the tears and was now sobbing in the middle of Peter's office. Cautiously, he took a step towards her. Then a few more. Until he was standing in front of her. He reached out and pulled her into a hug. Her arms reached hungrily around his neck, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "We thought you were dead," she repeated quietly.

"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm right here," Neal told her, holding her awkwardly. He loved his mother, of course, but this didn't seem like the same person who he had left ten years ago. She hadn't changed at all, but he had. He wasn't the person she thought he was.

"Neal Caffrey?" she asked him, finally pulling away. She looked up at him with a frown. Neal gave her a weak smile.

"Yeah. For ten years now," he told her, as if this change in identity was nothing. He caught Peter's accusing look. "It's not illegal, Peter, if that's what you're thinking," he added, but Kathryn didn't take any notice.

"I have to call your sister. She'll want to come down," Kathryn said, reaching for her cell phone with a shaking hand.

"No," Neal reached out and took her hand in his own. "Please, don't tell her. Just let her think I'm dead." He had spent every second that he was away from them wanting to see his sister, but it wouldn't be fair to her. She wanted her brother back. Her brother who used to play in the back yard with her and taught her how to tie her shoes and how to read the summer before kindergarten, so she could show off to the other kids. She didn't want him. An ex convict turned FBI pet, just so he didn't have to spend another four years in prison.

"Don't be ridiculous," Kathryn tried to wave him off.

"Mom, please," their identical eyes meet. "She can't know I'm here."

"She misses you though, more than anything."

"Just let me explain. Come by tomorrow afternoon. I'll tell you everything, and then you can decide if you really want her to see me again," a pained look came across his face.

"Tomorrow?" Kathryn asked, as if it was an eternity away. She was staring at him so greedily, as if she couldn't see enough of him, as if she was trying to make up for the past ten years in just a few short minutes.

"I promise, I'll be here," Neal assured her.

"Okay," she said slowly, but she made no motion to leave. With a sigh, Neal pulled her into another hug.

"I'm sorry. You were never supposed to find out," he kissed her on the cheek and then went to walk her to the elevator. When he came back to the office alone, Peter still hadn't moved. They stared at each other for several minutes before Neal finally broke. "I guess I owe you some answers."

"Yeah. I'd say so."

"Where do you want me to start?" Neal asked. There was a lot Peter didn't know about his past, he didn't think his partner could handle all of it in one night.

"How about your real name?" Peter suggested. He didn't seem at all amused.

"My real name is Neal Caffrey, Peter. I legally changed it after I left," Peter glared at him "But, before that, it was Nicholas Halden," Neal smiled innocently at him, but Peter didn't return the favor. "I have a younger sister. My mom didn't even know who the father was. She was five when I ran away."

"What made you leave?" Peter was trying his best to stay calm, but he knew that would only last so long.

"There was a car accident," Neal's usual playful smirk was nowhere to be found. His face had turned uncharacteristically serious. "I was at a party with some friends. They got completely wasted, but I said I would drive home, so I stayed sober. We were driving home, and it was really late, and they were distracting me, and I guess I just hit a patch of ice the wrong way, and we went off the bridge," he wanted to stop. He had played the scene over and over in his head thousands of times, but somehow saying it was so much worse.

"Jesus, Neal," was all Peter could say. He looked at his friend with pity. Neal tried to ignore him.

"I tried to get them out, but they were trapped, and the water was too cold, and I kept having to go back up for air. I watched my two best friends die right in front of me, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't deal with any of it. I would have had to tell my mom and their parents, and then I'd have to go to their funerals, and I knew if that happened all anybody would be thinking was that I should have died too. That it was all my fault. And it was, wasn't it? If it wasn't for me, they'd still be alive. I didn't even go home to get dry clothes. I ran as far as I could and then hitched a ride to New York. You know the rest," Neal finally brought himself to look up at his partner. This was the man who had seen him at his worst. He had put him in jail, he had given him a second chance, he had gotten him through Kate's death. If anyone was going to understand, it would be him.

Peter didn't say anything for a while. He just stood there, thinking about what his friend had told him. The man he was supposed to know everything about. "Go home, Neal," he finally said, barely above a whisper. His cold voice was enough to put Neal in a panic.

"Peter, please just—"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Go home. I'll talk to you tomorrow," Peter waved him off and lowered himself into one of his chairs.

"I just want to explain—"

"You just did!" Peter was beyond calm. His yell had made Neal jump.

"I swear, it wasn't my fault. I didn't mean to kill them," Neal was desperately trying to make him listen, to understand.

"You think that's why I'm mad?" Peter turned to him in disbelief. "Neal, you lied to me. You've been lying to me since the day we met. How am I supposed to trust you if you keep things like this from me?"

"I won't do it again," Neal said, and, surprisingly, he meant it.

"How can I believe that? The only reason why you told me this was because you got caught," Peter had yelled at him before, but not like this. "Just go home."

**Review, please! Or don't. Whatever floats your boat. But if you give me your input, I'll try to give you what you want!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! I guess I'd better post this before anyone else jumps down my throat…I try to stick as closely to the original characters as possible when writing, so if someone's seeming a little out of character, there's usually a reason why. I almost added this chapter to chapter 3, but I figured it would be too long. Oops! Note to self: don't end a chapter with a character's over reaction :) …I think you guys will like this chapter much more than the last one! But seriously, I really appreciate the picky comments, it's nice to know you guys are enough into this story that you can call me out when something seems out of place. Anyway…here it goes…**

The lavish apartment which Neal was renting had never seemed so unwelcoming. He had left the office without question after Peter's outburst. He wasn't mad. Not at Peter, at least. He understood his partner's anger. That was why he hadn't told him in the first place. He knew this would happen. His head was starting to hurt, so he collapsed onto the couch. Now what? Were the marshals going to come? Peter wouldn't want to continue working with him anymore. Not after this. He pulled his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on top of them. He couldn't think straight. Everything was falling apart around him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He was more than grateful when he heard a soft knock at his door. He took a moment to compose himself and then swiftly went to answer it. Of all the people that could have been standing before him, Peter Burke was the last person he expected to see.

"Hey," Neal said, trying to figure out if this was going to be a good visit or a bad one.

"Hey," Peter help up a case of beer sheepishly. "Can I come in?" Neal opened the door wide enough for him to come in and followed him to the table. He didn't make any complaints about the choice of alcohol. He welcomed it graciously in fact and quickly uncapped a beer and took a much appreciated sip. "So, do I have to start calling you Nick now?" Peter said with a small smile.

Neal laughed. "Funny," he replied dryly.

"I'm sorry," Peter's smile faded. "That was…completely uncalled for. It was just…a lot to take in."

"I should have told you," Neal agreed.

"How many times is this going to happen before 'no more secrets' actually means 'no more secrets'?" Peter downed his first beer. Working with Neal Caffrey had become more of a headache than he had ever imagined.

"This is the last time," Neal said confidently, but Peter didn't seem as sure. "I swear."

"Alright," Peter nodded, and he reached for a second drink. "Want to talk about the accident?"

"Not really," but he knew Peter was only asking to be polite. Like it or not, he would have to tell him everything. He sighed. "I blacked out for a minute or so after we went off the bridge. When I woke up I got myself out and went up for air. I went back down to try to help them. One of them was awake. He was stuck in his seat belt. I tried to get him out, but he kept pushing me away so I could help the other one. He was unconscious. He had passed out in the back seat before the accident. He was already dead when I got to him. I had to go back up for air, and by the time I came back Neal was almost gone."

"Neal?"

"Neal Andrews and Tyler Caffrey," he smiled for a moment, but then his face wavered and the smile turned to a frown. "Like I said, I watched my two best friends die that night."

"I really am sorry," Peter said. There really wasn't anything else to say. He should have known. If he had known all things Neal Caffrey, shouldn't he have known this?

"Thanks Peter, but I'm fine. Really," Neal brushed it off. "It was a long time ago."

"But still…"

"Don't worry about it."

They didn't talk for a long time after that. They went through several bottles of beer before Neal brought the hard liquor out. Neither was one to drink like this, but this seemed to be the proper occasion for it. Neal couldn't help thinking about his mother and having to face her tomorrow. Part of him wanted nothing more than for her to forgive him and be able to start fresh, but another part of him was actually hoping that she would reject him. He had two very separate lives. Neal Caffrey and Nick Halden were two entirely different people. Thinking about mixing them made his head hurt.

"What are you going to tell Kathryn tomorrow?" Peter finally asked, as if he was reading Neal's thoughts.

"The truth, I guess."

"What about your sister?" it was such a strange thing to be saying. All of a sudden Neal, or Nick rather, had a family.

"I don't want her to know about any of this," Neal said forcefully, although Peter was pretty sure he was aching to see the young girl.

"They really thought you were dead?" Peter shuddered at the thought of getting that phone call, someone informing him of his partner's death.

"Yeah. I looked up the crash a while ago. They just assumed they never found my body."

"Why didn't you go back?"

"I don't know," Neal said, as if it caused him physical pain. To this day, he regretted that day under the bridge. He should have saved them. He should have stayed with them. He shouldn't have left. "I was a kid. I was scared. What was I supposed to do? I kept telling myself I would go back, eventually. But I kept putting it off, and one day I realized I had turned to this completely different person. If I stayed away from them, they would always remember me as Nick Halden. I don't think I want them to know Neal Caffrey."

Peter sighed "Look, Neal," he never was good at this kind of thing. "I can't imagine what I would do if anything happened to you. Thinking you were dead…" he trailed off.

"But it's different for you. You met me when I was criminal. Compared to the Neal Caffrey I was when we met, I'm a saint," Peter rolled his eyes, "They still think of me as the straight-A student, captain of the soccer team, student council president that I was ten years ago. They're expecting Nick Halden, and, let's face it, he might as well have died under that bridge."

"Did you know that Elizabeth and I almost had a baby?" Neal turned to Peter in surprise. Where was this coming from? He shook his head 'no'. "She got pregnant three years ago. It was a boy, but he died 6 months into the pregnancy, completely out of the blue. It killed Elizabeth. Losing a child, Neal, that's something people don't recover from."

"Peter, I'm sorry. I had no idea," the thought of Peter and Elizabeth having children had crossed his mind once or twice, but he had never asked about it. "You never tried again?"

"Elizabeth didn't want to rush anything too soon. We didn't want to go through that again. And then you came along. I think we've had our hands full enough as it is dealing with your antics," Peter smiled playfully at him. Neal laughed. "Anyway, my point is, they're not going to care if you've become a world renowned art thief—"

"Who said I was an art thief?" Neal interrupted quickly, but Peter shot him an angry look.

"They just want to see you. Your sister especially. It sounds like you were some brother."

"I'll think about it," Neal agreed finishing his last drink.

"So, Nicholas Halden…" Peter said dramatically. Neal rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Don't call me that," he whined. Peter laughed and got up from the table.

"I should get going."

"Get a cab," Neal noted with a laugh as Peter stumbled towards the door.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Neal grimaced. He would have to face her for real tomorrow. She would see who he really was. He wasn't so sure either of them could handle it.

**Alright, my wonderfully critical readers, let's hear it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks so much for all the positive feedback. It's kind of awesome!**

Neal walked into Peter's office early the following morning. Peter noticed that he wasn't wearing one of his usual suits. Instead, he was wearing a simple button down shirt with khakis. His hair was messier than it usually was. He looked several years younger, and, of course, that was the point.

"I'm not feeling so good this morning. I think I might head home early," Neal said as he nervously sat down across from his partner. His foot was tapping frantically on the floor.

"I don't think so," Peter shook his head. "No way am I explaining to your mother why you're not here."

"Fine, but can I least go out and get some coffee?"

"No. You're staying right here, where I can keep an eye on you," Peter glared at him playfully, but Neal didn't look amused. He gave an overdramatic sigh and folded his arms across his chest.

"Maybe she's not coming," Neal suggested, turning around to look down at the empty bullpen.

"Trust me, she's coming," Peter assured, and before Neal could argue he was interrupted by a sudden outburst from downstairs. Both stood up and crossed to the large glass window that overlooked the whole office. A young girl had stormed into the bullpen, followed closely by a few agents, trying to calm her down.

"Where is he?" she screamed angrily at a defenseless intern who had crossed her path. The intern froze and looked around for help from one of the older agents. "Where is Nick Halden, or Neal Caffrey, or whatever the hell he's going by this week?" she turned on Diana who had allowed herself to laugh at Neal being addressed by a girl with such hostility. "Where is he?" Diana looked up to Peter's office and, seeing both of them standing in the window, motioned for them to join her and the girl.

"Is that a friend of yours?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yep. That would be my sister," Neal groaned. Peter nudged him forward and they went to join the others. Neal barely even made it to the bottom step before the girl strode over to him. She did not have the same relieved look his mother had had upon seeing her supposedly dead son. Peter immediately jumped out of her path. She reached Neal, stared up at him, and slapped him across the face with, what sounded like, a great deal of force.

"Okay. I deserved that," Neal said. The girl made a motion as if she were going to hit him again, but he held up his hands in surrender. "Kristen, please. Let me explain."

"Explain?" she practically shrieked at him. "Explain what? Explain why our mother, _my _mother, came home yesterday completely hysterical because her son, the son who we thought _died_ ten years ago, was living, perfectly healthy and alive, in the same god damn city as us, and we didn't even know about it? Explain why you ran away, changed your name, and _abandoned_ us?" she stood before him, breathing heavily and waiting intently for his response.

"I didn't mean for you to find out," Neal said calmly. He knew that all eyes were on him now.

"Oh. You didn't mean for us to find out? Well, doesn't that just explain everything?" Kristen laughed cynically. "We buried you. Did you know that? We had a funeral and everything. You have a gravestone in the town cemetery. Right next to Neal and Tyler. We thought that's what you would have wanted," her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "You know, after we thought you died, I did everything to take care of her because I know that's what you did when your dad died. I spent the past ten years trying to be like you, and you've been here the whole time, pretending to be someone completely different."

"Kris, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say," Neal tried to reach out and touch her shoulder, but she shoved his hand away.

"I don't want you to say anything," she brought her voice down to a low growl. "Just stay away from Mom and stay the hell away from me," with that, she turned on her heels and left. The office fell silent. Everyone was staring blankly at Neal. He wanted nothing more than to follow her, but he knew he had to leave her alone now. He owed her that much.

"Well, that could have gone better," Neal mumbled to Peter. He hadn't seen his sister since she was five years old and, as happy as he was to see that she had become a strong, independent young woman, it killed him to have her look at him like that. Growing up, she loved him more than anything. Her large brown eyes had never looked upon him with anything other than complete adoration, until now, at least. Her eyes had bore into him with pure, unrecognizable hatred. He would have doubted that it actually was his sister, if she hadn't grown into an exact replica of their mother.

Five minutes later, Neal was seated at one of the many seats in the conference room. Peter stood, staring out the window. He had managed to get everyone back to work and had practically shoved Neal back up the stairs. Diana entered the room with an ice pack and handed it to Neal.

"I thought you could use this," she said, trying to suppress a smirk.

"Gee thanks," Neal mumbled. He took the ice pack from her. His head was throbbing. Apparently, Kristen had hit him harder than he thought.

"Can we get back to work, please?" Peter asked impatiently. He wasn't mad at Neal. Not anymore. It was quite the opposite, in fact. Although Neal would never admit it, this was killing him. The best way to get him through this was with a great deal of distractions. Luckily, the FBI was the number one source for distractions. "Did you figure out that jewelry heist?"

"Not yet. I haven't really been looking into it," the truth was, he had been avoiding it. "Maybe you should find someone else to help you on this one."

"Sorry, Neal. You don't get to pick and choose your cases. That's not a part of our arrangement. Either figure this out from the office or put your family issues on hold for the time being and check out that crime scene with me," Peter couldn't help but feeling a little guilty. He hated telling Neal what to do, being his _handler. _But he had Neal's best interest in mind. Didn't that count for something?

"Fine," Neal said coldly, and he left the conference room, heading back to his own desk.

* * *

Kristen stormed into the two bedroom apartment she shared with her mother and slammed the door angrily. The walls shook, threatening the picture frames that hung by the door. Kathryn poked her head out of her bedroom at the sound of the commotion. Her daughter gave her an annoyed look, sighed loudly, and threw her hands up as she crossed to the kitchen. Kathryn joined her.

"Where were you this morning? The school called. They said you didn't show up to class. Care to explain?" Kathryn said accusingly.

"I went to see him," Kristen's gaze dropped to the floor. She couldn't look into her mother's eyes. Not right now. She couldn't look at them and not see him.

"Nick?" Kathryn's anger vanished at the mention of her son. "I told him I wouldn't tell you. Was he mad? Does he still want to see me?"

"He wasn't mad. I was," Kristen folded her arms across her chest. "I don't think you should see him, Mom."

Kathryn frowned. "What are you talking about? I thought this would make you happy."

"Happy? Am I the only one who even remembers what he did? He abandoned us, Mom. He let us think he was dead. How can you just forgive him? He obviously doesn't want us. Why should we want him?" Kristen quickly brushed away a tear from the corner of her eye. She was clenching her fists so tightly, that her finger nails were beginning to draw blood.

"Because he's your brother," Kathryn said sternly. Of course, she had been having the same thoughts as her daughter, but she couldn't bring herself to face them.

"No he's not," Kristen dropped her yelling and spoke calmly to her brother. "Nick Halden was my brother. I looked _Neal Caffrey _up last night, Mom, and you want to know what came up? A mug shot. He's been arrested," Kathryn was about to defend him, but the younger girl cut her off. "And not for something minor like loitering or shop lifting. He went to prison for four years for bond forgery. He escaped from a maximum security prison three months before his sentence was up for god-know-what. He's not an FBI agent. He's a consultant. A _criminal_."

"I don't believe you," Kathryn said after thinking about what her daughter had just told her for several minutes.

"Then by all means, go do a background check on him. His _alleged_ crimes are even more interesting."

**Reviews please! I promise, as you're writing a review I am diligently working on the next chapter…or facebook stalking…either one. **


	6. Chapter 6

Peter couldn't have been more relieved to get home that night. He had dropped Neal at home, to make sure he got there without taking any detours. They hadn't talked much during the day. In fact, Peter was pretty sure the only words he had spoken to his partner had been to ask about lunch and to offer him a ride. Both had received simple one word answers. Kathryn didn't come to the office, as they had expected, and she wasn't at the boutique when they went to resurvey the scene. Peter had made sure that Neal stayed on task all day. He kept telling himself over and over again that it was for the younger man's best interest, but the more he thought about it, the more he doubted it. Elizabeth wasn't much help, either. She had immediately taken Neal's side when he told her about what had happened over dinner. They were in the middle of their argument when the phone rang. Grateful for the distraction, Peter rushed to answer it.

"Hello," Peter answered, while Elizabeth made a face which ensured him that their conversation was not over.

"Hi," a nervous voice on the other line greeted. "Agent Burke?"

"Yes. Can I help you?" Peter asked with confusion. It was strange being addressed this way on his land line.

"This is Kathryn Paterson," she said slowly. "Nick…er…Neal's mom." Peter sighed. _Could he get a break from Neal Caffrey just for one night? _

"Oh. Hi," he said, maybe sounding a little too surprised. Elizabeth frowned from her seat at the dinner table. He shrugged. "You didn't come by the office today. Was everything okay?" Did she know about Neal's encounter with Kristen? Was that really why she hadn't come? Or had she let her curiosity get the best of her and done a simple search for_ Neal Caffrey_ online?

"Well, I—um—I talked to Kristen." That explained it. "It's all true?" she wasn't really asking, though. She knew.

"Yeah. It's all true," Peter couldn't help but smile. The more impressed people were with Neal, the prouder he was of himself. After all, he was the one that caught him. Wasn't he?

"And you're his…" she trailed off, searching for the word.

"Technically speaking, I'm his handler," Peter winced at the word. Even he didn't like to hold that against Neal when they got into arguments. "But I think of him as my partner."

"Then you trust him?"

"Absolutely," Peter was still shocked when he admitted this. After all the lies, the traps, the cons, he still trusted his partner. More than any of the other agents working for him.

"Was he—" she sighed. "Was he upset, when I didn't show up?"

"Hard to tell," Peter shrugged. "You know how he is."

The other end went silent for a moment. Peter was mentally kicking himself. Of course she didn't know how it was with Neal. She hadn't seen him in ten years. Mother or not, this woman knew nothing about his partner.

"Right," Kathryn finally said quietly. "I guess I do. He was a good kid, you know. It's probably hard for you to believe, but…"

"It's not hard for me to believe," Peter interrupted quickly. "He still is."

"I wanted to see him, today," Kathryn said, her voice dropping. "I really did, but when Kristen told me what had happened, I didn't really think he would want to see me. And then I did a background check. Kristen told me to. It's just hard to believe it's the same person."

"You should talk to him," Peter said decisively. As much as he wanted his partner's head back in the game, he needed his friend to get through this even more. Although he would never admit it, Neal was really struggling with this. "I think you'd be surprised."

"Maybe that's not such a good idea," Kathryn's voice wavered slightly. "After today, he probably doesn't want to see me. Especially after what a Kristen did."

"He'd be more than happy to talk to you. Trust me," Peter assured. Kathryn agreed without anymore protest. They set a date for lunch the following day and then hung up.

* * *

Peter arrived at June's early the following morning. Not wanting to wait for the consultant in his car, he let himself into the house and up to the apartment. He knocked on the door a couple times, but after receiving no answer, he went in himself. The apartment seemed completely empty. "Neal? You home?" he called out. He was fairly certain the younger man hadn't left for work already. It was too early. He had half expected to find him still fast asleep on his bed at this hour. However, his consultant's bed was empty. The only reply Peter received was a coughing noise coming from the bathroom. He rushed towards the sound and stopped at once when he reached the open door. Neal was sitting on the floor, his torso draped over the toilet.

"Whoa!" Peter said, taking a step back. "You okay?"

"No," Neal groaned. He made no motion to get up at the sight of Peter.

"Have you been like this all night?" Neal nodded. "You should have called. You need to go to the hospital," Peter's worried tone earned him a smirk from his consultant.

"I'm not sick," the younger man protested.

"You look pretty sick to me."

"Yeah. Family tends to have that effect on me," Neal said. He propped himself up and leaned back against the bathroom wall, closing his eyes.

"Alright. Enough with the brave face. This is killing you," Peter said calmly. "You need to talk to me."

With a sigh, Neal opened his eyes and faced his partner. "You know, there's not much I regret in my life. Even after you arrested me, I never regretted forging those bonds. I don't regret loving Kate. But to this day, I still hate myself for leaving that night."

"Neal…"

"No, Peter. Nothing you say can change what I did," Neal protested. "I left them. All of them. I left my two best friends…"

"There was nothing you could have done to save them."

"It doesn't matter. I could have still gotten them out. I just…left," he gave a disgusted look. "I left my family. Peter, I was supposed to take care of them. I had been for years, but that night…god…I was so selfish. All I could think of was myself. What people would think of me. I didn't stop to think about what would happen to them. I was a stupid kid. It killed me to see my sister look at me the way she did yesterday, but it was so much worse seeing my mother. She forgives me. I abandoned them, and she somehow forgives me. Coming back into their lives like this, it's not fair to them."

"Maybe you should let them make that decision," Peter said, sitting beside his partner. "I talked to your mom last night," Neal turned to him in surprise. "She wants to talk to you. She knows about everything. Well, as much as your record has to say about you…"

Neal laughed. "Believe me, Peter. That is far from everything," Peter shot him a look, but then couldn't help but laugh as well.

"I told her we could meet her for lunch today. If you're up for that," he said, looking at Neal's far from usual state. The idea of seeing his mother, however, seemed to perk him up slightly.

"Yeah. Let me just get changed," Neal stood up slowly and disappeared to his closet.

* * *

The morning went by even more slowly than usual. Neal tried to stay as focused as one possible could be while doing paper work, but had eventually given up and gone to talk to Jones until lunch. Peter had tried to distract him on their way to the restaurant, which Neal was entirely grateful for, but found equally useless. It wasn't much help when they finally arrived for lunch and Kathryn had yet to show up.

"You're sure she's coming?" Neal asked, looking anxiously outside the restaurant's window.

"Positive."

"And you're sure you told her the right place?"

"One hundred percent."

"And—" Neal started, but Peter cut him off before he could finish.

"And the right time. Yes. She's coming. Trust me," it was funny how Peter could simply say those two words, and any doubt in Neal's mind was lost. Luckily for the potted plant Neal had nervously been picking at since they arrived, Kathryn appeared in the doorway just a few moments later. She politely shook Peter's hand and then turned to Neal. She stood staring at him, unsure of what to do. With a weak smile, he pulled her into a one armed hug.

"How's Kristen doing?" Neal asked nervously, jumping at the chance to divert attention from himself. "She seemed…upset," that was the understatement of the year.

"She wasn't exactly thrilled about me coming," Kathryn frowned. "She'll come around though," she wanted so desperately to believe that her son was somewhere inside this charming, well-dressed, stranger, but so far she wasn't seeing him.

The waiter directed them to their table. Neal cursed him under his breath when they were brought to a booth. Kathryn slipped into one side, and Peter slipped into the other, leaving Neal to choose for himself. Feeling like a complete coward, he sat down beside his partner.

**I don't know…I think reviews are pretty cool. **


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hi, all! Sorry this took so long. It's actually been written for quite some time, and I just never got around to posting it. Hopefully some of you are still reading!**_

"I think it's only fair that I give you a chance to explain your side of what happened," Kathryn said the moment they sat down. She wasn't going to waste any time on small talk. Neal managed a sad smile. She was expecting him to tell her that it wasn't true. It was all just a set up or a misunderstanding. Her son, the apparent criminal, was really just a victim of a poor criminal justice system, right?

"It's kind of a long story," Neal sighed.

"I don't care. I want to know everything," at that, Neal looked over at Peter nervously. Even this far into their partnership, there was a lot Peter didn't know about him, a lot he could get arrested for.

"Full immunity," Peter said with a sigh. Neal turned back to Kathryn, looking satisfied with himself.

"Well, you know what happened the night I left," he began. "I was driving home, and it was really icy…"

"I told you it was," Kathryn said slowly, remembering the night. "Before you left for that party, I told you it was slippery out and to drive carefully." Neal winced.

"I remember. The guys were really drunk. Neal was up front with me, and Tyler had passed out in the back seat. I blacked out when we went off the bridge, and I didn't have time to save them," it still felt like he was telling someone else's story. Whenever he remembered the accident it was as an on looker, watching from the riverbank or the bridge. He was never himself, or Nicholas Halden. "I panicked. I thought that everyone would blame me, which was stupid. But I was a kid, and I was selfish. I didn't understand the kinds of consequences I would be facing if I left. Anyway, I went to New York, changed my name, and tried my best to move on." So, he told her everything. About Mozzie and Kate. The forged bonds, Peter catching him, jail, his escape, the anklet. But even after mentioning art heists and prison breaks, Kathryn's interest was not full heightened until he got to his search for Kate. Neal couldn't help but feel guilty as he told her about the music box and Fowler and his missing girlfriend. She didn't know that this story didn't have a happy ending. For all she knew, Kate was back at his apartment waiting for him.

"You were going to run away with her?" Kathryn asked, engulfed in the love story. Neal nodded.

"I would have gotten on that plane, if it wasn't for Peter," he caught his partner's eye. Peter offered him a weak smile.

"So, she left without you?" from the men's exchanged glances, she was beginning to realize that this story wasn't going to end well.

"No. She died," Neal said plainly. He finished explaining everything else. Kathryn shook her head the whole time. He tried to ignore her look of pity.

Once Neal finished, both he and his mother fell silent. Peter spoke in an attempt to lighten the suddenly tense mood. "You _were_ behind that museum heist in 2003…I knew it," he said with a smile. "No one else thought you could pull that off."

"Well, Peter, I'm glad to hear you've always had complete faith in me," Neal rolled his eyes. Kathryn watched their banter with a slit frown. She had, of course, been ecstatic to learn that her son was in fact alive, but it was killing her to see him so happy, without them. It sounded like he had a family here. He didn't need them anymore. While they had been mourning his death for ten years, he had moved on. Suddenly, she realized that Kristen was right. It was obvious that this version of Nick Halden didn't want them.

"Everything okay?" Neal asked her, eyeing her nervously.

"I'm fine," she assured unconvincingly. "I should really get going though," she stood up at once. Neal opened his mouth to protest, but, for the first time in his life, he couldn't find words. "Kristen's waiting for me…I'm sorry…I just…I'll talk to you later…" she fumbled over her words as she hurriedly backed away from the table. Neal stared back at the woman, unable to stop her.

"Mom," he tried. She stopped momentarily, frowned, and then continued out the door. Neal groaned. "Breaking into banks, forging paintings, that I can do, but dealing with my family…I'm completely hopeless."

Peter stared at him blankly for a moment and then furrowed his brow. "When did you break into a bank?"

* * *

When Kathryn walked into their apartment after lunch, she found Kristen curled up on the couch in front of the TV. Her daughter didn't even look up as she entered the living room and sat down on the chair beside her.

"Still think it was a good idea to see him?" Kristen asked in annoyance. Kathryn didn't say anything. When the girl turned to face her, she saw that the woman had tears streaming down her face. At once, she dropped her sarcastic tone and went over to her mother. "Mom? What happened?"

Kathryn just shook her head. "You were right. I shouldn't have gone," she said plainly.

"What did he do?" Kristen's voice was suddenly cold with anger towards her brother. Kathryn waved her off, however.

"He didn't do anything. He was perfect and generous and charming," she cringed, remembering the unfamiliar man who had sat across from her at lunch.

"That doesn't exactly sound like Nick…" Kristen pointed out with a frown. Not that she had expected anything else. After seeing those articles on the world renowned art thief, Neal Caffrey, she lost all hope of ever getting her brother back.

"I just think…" Kathryn started, but she was interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing. She grabbed it at once. "Hello," she answered.

"Hi. It's Peter Burke," the agent didn't sound like his usual confident self. His voice wavered over the phone. "I'm at the hospital. I think you should both get down here."

_**I'd love to hear what you think!**_


	8. Chapter 8

**Would you all believe me if I said I didn't forget about this story? Probably not, but I swear I didn't! I'm still writing…just very, very, very, very delayed. Hope this makes up for it. I will try my best to update again soon and have another update for **_I'm Sorry I Can't Be Perfect_** soon as well for anyone who's reading that as well! Sorry I'm terrible at update. Glad whoever's reading this is sticking with me. Thanks!**

"Peter, relax. I'm fine." There was evident amusement in Neal's voice as he watched his partner's consistent pacing across the hospital room floor. He hadn't stopped circling since they had arrived, and it became increasingly annoying with each step.

"I know, I know," Peter mumbled dismissively, but he didn't stop his pacing. Neal rolled his eyes and pulled his newly cast arm closer to his body.

The whole thing was pretty dumb, really. Neal Caffrey, world renowned art forger, con artist extraordinaire, FBI criminal consultant, had finally proven his imperfection. It had only taken the slightest moment of distraction, and he had tripped on the sidewalk and plummeted to the ground. Of course, Peter had laughed at first, but then, when Neal had stood up, clutching his arm to his chest, the man had gone into full panic mode. And Neal had learned just how terrible his partner was in an emergency. It had taken the man several minutes of nervous questioning before it dawned on him to take Neal to the hospital. Once they arrived, he spent even more time arguing with nurses and doctors, flashing his badge in an attempt to get some kind of special treatment. His attempts were ignored, and they were left waiting in the front lobby along with a long line of others with similar injuries. Peter's worry hadn't let up then. He had disappeared for quite a while, and Neal assumed it had been to call the office, telling them that one of their assets had been damaged. When they finally got a room, a nurse did a quick exam and X-rays, Neal's doctor put a cast on the younger man's arm, and told them to wait for the nurse. Peter didn't stop pacing the whole time this was going on.

"Okay, that needs to stop," Neal finally said, allowing his annoyance to come out in his voice. Peter stopped and looked at him in confusion.

"What?"

Neal shook his head. "You're going to drill a hole straight through the floor," he laughed. "Sit down. You're driving me crazy." Peter stared back at him for a few moments before sliding a plastic chair across the room to Neal's bed, where the younger man was sitting upright, his legs dangling over the side. "Did you call the office?" he asked, knowing that the only reason for Peter' pacing was his need for a distraction. He was going to have to be the distraction now.

"No," Peter said, realization hitting him. "I forgot."

Neal furrowed his brow in confusion. "Then what were you doing earlier? When you disappeared?" he had been sure that was where Peter had gone off to.

"I called Elizabeth and Mozzie, and June and your mom," Peter explained, as if that had been the acceptable thing to do. Neal didn't look happy at all.

"You did what?" he questioned in a deeply annoyed voice. "Peter, I broke my wrist. I'm not in a coma. They didn't need to know about this. Especially my mom," he whined. "What did you tell her?"

Peter thought back to the conversation, wincing as he remembered his words. "That you were in the hospital and that she should get down here immediately."

Neal groaned and covered his face with his hands. "You have got to be kidding me…"

"To be fair, I didn't know how bad it was then," Peter said defensively.

"New rule: if I'm not bleeding out of my head, you don't call my mom," he ran a hand through his hair. "You called my mom," he stated, still in disbelief. "Peter, she's going to come down here."

"So, maybe that's a good thing…"

"Were you not at lunch?" Neal questioned, panic beginning to set in. "Peter, I don't think she wants anything to do with me anymore."

"Maybe this will change her mind," Peter suggested with a shrug.

"She probably thinks I was killed," Neal said absently. He allowed himself to crack a smile at Peter's less than stellar performance. "You really couldn't have worded that call any worse…"

"I'm sorry," Peter said innocently. Neal laughed.

"Yeah. I know," he nodded. "From now on, why don't you let Elizabeth handle emergency situations." Peter nodded.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed with a smile. At that, Neal's nurse casually strolled into the room, as if she hadn't kept them waiting for more than a second, when really it had been almost an hour.

"How's the arm, Mr. Caffrey?" she asked, picking up his injured wrist and studying it carefully.

"It's fine," Neal shrugged. "I really just want to get out of here," he mumbled. Peter was shocked. It may have been the first time he had seen Neal pass up an opportunity to flirt with such a beautiful woman. Apparently, even his partner got impatient with slow service. He laughed.

"Well, then it's your lucky day," the nurse smiled. Neal didn't return the favor. "These are very mild painkillers," she continued, handing Neal a bottle of pills. "Take them twice a day for three days and then only if necessary after that. Talk to Christine at the front desk, and she'll schedule an appointment to get your cast off in four weeks."

"Fine," he said, sliding down from the hospital bed. He mumbled a quick, "Thanks," almost as an after thought and then led the way out the door.

"Oh, Mr. Caffrey," the nurse called after him. He froze in the doorway. "You have some visitors waiting for you in lobby." Neal let out a groan. Peter laughed and shot up from his chair, taking the lead into the hall. Neal followed begrudgingly.

They made their way down the hallway, past the nurses station, and out into the front lobby. Neal hung back slightly, trying to get a sense of the room before he let himself be seen. He scanned the crowd, nervously, and, finally, his eyes landed on Elizabeth. He had never been so happy to see her before in his life. His visitor hadn't been his sister or mom. Just Elizabeth. He smiled with relief and followed Peter over to her. The woman breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Neal.

"Thank god," she said, grasping him by his upper arms. "Peter made it sound like…" she trailed off and turned to her husband angrily. "You told me it was an emergency," she exclaimed, slapping Peter across the chest. He winced.

"I thought it was," he said with a shrug. Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned back to Neal.

"You're okay?" she asked him. He nodded in response.

"Yeah. I'm fine," he held up his cast. "Just a scratch."

"Is there anything you need?" Elizabeth asked, carefully studying his cast.

"Nope," Neal answered quickly, shaking his head. "Just feeling pretty dumb right now. I really just want to go home."

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed, and she turned to her husband. "Peter'll take you home. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," Neal promised. Elizabeth gave a satisfied smile and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before parting ways with them. "How cryptic were you in your phone calls?" Neal asked Peter with a laugh as they turned to leave the lobby. The moment of amusement lasted for only a moment, however. His face fell when he finally noticed the two people who had been standing just a few feet away from them the whole time.

"Mom," Neal stated blankly. "Kristen." After the way lunch had gone, he hadn't expected to see his mother or sister any time soon.

"You're alright," Kathryn said immediately. She scanned his body for any sign of life threatening injuries but quickly gave up and met his eyes. "We didn't know what to think."

Neal shot Peter another angry look before taking a step towards his mother and sister. They both shifted away from him, however. "I"m sorry about that. I didn't even know Peter called." He smiled sadly. "You shouldn't have come." He hadn't meant it like that, though. He didn't know why he kept doing that. His words weren't such a mess in his head. He hadn't meant that he didn't want them there. Of course he did. The trip had just been unnecessary. Peter's troublesome mistake. He didn't want them to be there simply because they thought he was lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

"Okay," Kathryn nodded. "Well, as long as you're okay…"

"You know what?" Peter interrupted loudly. Neal turned to face him, dread evident in his face. "I really have to get back to the office," the agent announced, even though Neal knew he had taken the rest of the afternoon off. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Do you think you could take Neal home for me?" Peter asked, and realization struck Neal at once. This was a set up. He was being conned. He glared back at his partner in annoyance. "I would, but it's really out of my way, and…"

"Of course," Kathryn answered readily. Kristen looked at her in amazement. The same amazement that Neal was still look upon Peter with.

"No," Neal interjected. "It's fine. I can walk. It's not that far. Really," he insisted. He couldn't imagine the thought of being alone with them. He loved them, but there was too much they didn't know. Too much he would have to explain.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Peter said, smiling knowingly at Neal. "Neal, it's over thirty blocks. You have a broken wrist. You aren't walking." Neal was ready to keep protesting, and Kristen even looked like she wanted to start in the same argument, but it was clear that Peter and Kathryn had already made up their minds on the matter. "Plus," Peter added, knowing full well what he was doing, "you're out of your radius. Somebody's got to keep an eye on you." If looks could kill…Neal's eyes bore into Peter with pure anger. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid," Peter said, ignoring his partner's look. Without another word, he left the hospital, leaving Neal alone with the two women.

"You're probably ready to get out of here," Kathryn noted. Neal was still watching Peter's disappearing back. He turned to face his mother as he felt her hand softly touching his uninjured arm.

"What?" he questioned, shaking his head. "Yeah. Let's just go."

Kathryn led the way out of the hospital and to the car. Neal couldn't help but feel a strong sense of nostalgia as the three of them walked through the parking lot. It seemed like just days ago that he and Kristen had been bickering over the front seat of their old beat up station wagon. Neal always won, of course. They both knew he would going into the fight. Kristen was far to young, and Neal was a master of words, but he always humored her. He listened intently to her reasoning and then gently let her down when he saw the flaws in her argument.

There was no argument this time, however. Kristen slipped into her rightful place in the front seat without saying a word, and Neal was left to cram himself into the backseat. Kathryn chose not to comment. It seemed she was still stuck in the past as well, mindlessly gossiping to Neal about his old friends, as if he had just been away for a few weeks at summer camp. He didn't call her out on it. He nodded along, smiling when she turned to look at him in the rearview window. The only time he spoke was to point out directions to June's. He could tell that they were nervous about something, and, as they drew nearer to his apartment, he realized that it was his housing arrangements that had made them so uncomfortable. They had no idea he lived in the guest room of a Manhattan townhouse with a million dollar view of the city. They heard criminal. They assumed the worst.

He watched them through the mirrors, staring up at the high-rise apartment buildings and neighboring townhouses along his street. Confusion was evident in their faces, but neither of them said anything until Neal pointed out June's own house from the rest.

"Right here," he said casually, as if he had pointed out nothing more than a broken down building that contained his tiny loft.

"Here?" Kathryn questioned, slowing down only slightly. Neal laughed.

"Yeah. This is it."

Finally, Kathryn pulled the car to stop in front of June's house. Neal didn't move for several moments. He knew what Kathryn wanted, and he knew that that was exactly what Kristen didn't want. His mother was honestly trying. He had to give her that. Lunch had been a complete disaster, and yet, she was still here. She wanted to make it work, but Kristen had given up. She had given up long before she even knew about Neal Caffrey, and there wasn't much he could do about that.

Although he still wasn't entirely sure about his decision, he sighed and turned to his mother and sister. "I'm starving," he said. It had been almost six hours since lunch. His entire day had been spent in the hospital. This certainly wasn't a lie. "Why don't you guys come upstairs? I can make us something to eat," he shrugged. "We can talk."

"We'd love to," Kathryn answered immediately, cutting off her daughters look of distaste. Kristen just rolled her eyes and followed her mom and brother out of the car.

"How'd you con your way into this place?" she asked the instant they stepped foot inside the giant house. Kathryn turned to her fearfully, thinking that the girl's words could turn Neal away at once, but he simply laughed.

"It wasn't a con," he said with a smile. "I just got lucky. Right place at the right time."

They climbed up the stairs, Neal quietly leading the way in an attempt not to disturb his landlady. When they reached the top of the stairs, Neal pulled out his key and went to let them in. However, he found that the door was already unlocked. He knew exactly what that meant, and it brought on a sudden feeling of dread. He shouldn't have invited them up. This was a mistake. Maybe he could make them leave. They wouldn't care. They didn't even like him that much anyway. He sighed. Even Kristen was looking at him curiously, desperate to see inside his apartment. He braced himself as he opened the door and let them inside.

They hadn't made it more than three steps in the door before a voice greeted them from the kitchen table.

"I thought you were dead," the familiar voice called through the dark. Neal shook his head and flipped the light on.

"No, Mozz," he said, showing his friend his arm. "I'm fine." Mozzie was looking at Neal's arm, though. All of his attention was on the two women who had come in with the man. He stood up at once. Neal caught his eye for just a second, giving him a pleading look: _Please, just this once, act normal_. "This is my mother, Kathryn, and my sister, Kristen," Neal introduced them. The three exchanged "hellos" and handshakes.

"Well," Mozzie began quickly after introductions were made. Neal had given him enough warning looks for him to know that now was not the time. He would explain later. "It's getting late. I should get going." Neal breathed a sigh of relief. Mozzie was his best friend, and he loved the guy, but he didn't dare throw another thing onto his mother and sister's place. Especially not Mozzie. That was too much.

"Oh, no," Kathryn said with a polite smile. "Don't leave on our account. We'd love for you to join us." Neal's eyes widened because he knew that look on Mozzie's face all too well. There was sheer entertainment in his friend's eyes. He was enjoying watching his friend squirm. Neal gave him one last warning look, but it was too late. Mozzie gave him a wide smile and then turned back to Kathryn.

"If you insist," he said with a shrug.

** Well, that was plotty. Just trying to get back into it. Hope it wasn't too boring! Let me know what you think, please. **


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks for the patience! More to come on this and my other one soon! _

Kathryn proved to be an incredibly effective substitute for Neal's right arm. She followed her son's orders in the kitchen to the T, all the while stealing glances at Neal's back, hunched over a pot at his stove. Kristen was sitting at the table on the patio, her arms firmly crossed over her chest as she glared out at the incredible view. Mozzie was standing outside with her, but neither had spoken a word since their initial introduction. The man had never been good with kids. Especially teenage girls. He just watched her curiously, trying to imagine his best friend as this stranger's brother.

"She's not doing so well in all of this, is she?" Neal asked his mother, peering up from his cooking out onto the balcony.

"No," Kathryn admitted. "But I'm sure she'll come around." She sounded doubtful.

"Yeah," Neal agreed with a nod. He seemed just as convinced as his mother. He shook off his disappointed expression and grabbed a stack of plates from a cabinet over his head. "Dinner's ready," he announced, flashing a reassuring smile. Kathryn followed him out to the patio, where they set the table and placed the food in front of the other two.

"Thank you," Kristen said quietly. She didn't even raise her eyes to meet her brother's. Neal smiled weakly and sat down beside her.

"So…Mozzie," Kathryn started, realizing that Kristen and Neal weren't going to start any civil conversation. "How did you and Nick…Neal meet?" she asked, correcting herself instantly.

"That's confidential information," Mozzie answered quickly. Neal rolled his eyes.

"Mozz was running a job in the park," he explained, despite his friend's look of betrayal. "Let's just say, I beat him at his own game," he finished with a shrug. Mozzie narrowed his eyes.

"You cheated me out of five hundred dollars is what you did," he countered with playful annoyance.

"And if I hadn't," Neal reminded him. "You'd still be running that same job in that same park."

"Touché," Mozzie admitted defeat. They both smiled. Neal looked to his mother who seemed to be amused as well. Kristen, however, had adopted a look of deep curiosity. Her eyes were narrowed, and it was clear that she wanted to ask him something.

"What's the largest amount of money you've ever stollen from one person?" she asked Neal without hesitation. There was no real interest in her voice, just judgmental disapproval. Neal frowned but obliged nonetheless.

"About ten years ago," he started, looking her directly in the eye, "before Peter was chasing me, I ran a con on a man named Henry Ames that I never got caught for. He owned his own company, and, by the time I left, I had stollen nearly six million dollars from him." Mozzie looked incredibly triumphant, smiling at the memory of their biggest job. Neal didn't look as pleased. Neither did Kristen.

"What happened to him?" she asked cautiously. Neal swallowed. "And don't tell me you don't know."

"The company went under," Neal told her in a quiet voice. Mozzie's attention was suddenly focused on the New York skyline behind them. "He lost everything."

"All so you could get one big score," Kristen stated, shaking her head in amazement.

"I was a kid," Neal argued, as if it were any excuse. "I was new to the city, and I needed money."

"But, if you hadn't gotten caught you'd still be doing it now, right?" Kristen questioned with a raised eyebrow. Neal nodded slowly.

"Yeah. I would," he admitted with a guilty smile. It was amazing. He had never looked back on his past with anything but triumph, but now, with his sister looking at him with that judgmental stare, he actually felt guilty. He wanted to take all of it back. Not so much for Henry Ames, but for Kristen. She hated the fact that her brother had turned into this stranger, and he hated himself for letting that happen. "Kris," he sighed. Her eyes met his. "I'm sorry I'm not Nick Halden anymore." He gave her a weak smile, but the girl's eyes dropped back to her food.

"You do have several passports and driver's licenses that say otherwise," Mozzie pointed out. Neal shot him a look.

"Mozz…" he warned, but Kristen was already peaked with interest.

"What does he mean?" she questioned her brother. Neal glared at Mozzie angrily before turning to her.

"Nick Halden is one of my aliases," he explained calmly. "_Was," _he corrected quickly. He could see his friend rolling his eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Kristen said, trying not to show her interest. She picked at her food, refusing to raise her eyes. "How much money did he steal?" she questioned bitterly.

"Not a lot, actually," Neal admitted. "He wasn't some of my best work," he continued. Kristen seemed amused. "But, for some reason, he's always been my favorite." Kristen looked up at once. Even Kathryn abandoned her look of indifference and eyed Neal curiously.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully. Neal nodded.

"It's true," Mozzie confirmed with an annoyed sigh. Neal knew how much his friend hated the poor alias. "Unfortunately, he's quite fond of that one."

Everyone fell silent after that. The rest of the meal was finished with only the sound of clinking silverware and traffic from below to entertain them. Once they had finished, Kristen was the first to get up. She got up from her own chair and grabbed the plates surrounding the table.

"I'll…um…" she started. She couldn't stand to look at her brother anymore. This wasn't fair. She wanted so desperately to hate him, but he wasn't making it easy. "I'll go clean up." She hurried into the kitchen. Neal watched her leave and then turned to his mother.

"It doesn't sound like she's coming around," he pointed out with a frown.

"She will," Kathryn insisted before following her daughter into the apartment.

Neal sighed and leaned back in his chair. Mozzie studied him carefully.

"You weren't exactly helpful tonight," Neal told him in annoyance.

Mozzie just shrugged. "I was just being honest."

"Honest?" Neal hissed. "Mozzie, when have you ever been honest?"

Again, the older man only shrugged. "I like them," he added, taking a sip of his wine and stretching out his arms.

"Yeah. So do I," Neal continued hotly. " And I would really prefer to stay on their good side."

"Are you expecting an apology?" his friend questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Neal said, shaking his head. "Forget it."

"Sure," Mozzie agreed happily.

Both their eyes were suddenly drawn to the patio doors where Kathryn was standing with her hands folded in front of her.

"We're going to head out," she stated apologetically. Neal rose at once. He could see Kristen through the window, leaning against the front door. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her arms were wrapped tightly around her body. "I'll call you tomorrow," Kathryn continued. Neal crossed to where she was standing and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Okay," he said reluctantly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

With that, Kathryn turned to leave. Neal watched as she took her daughter's hand and led the way out of the apartment. He stood for a moment in the doorway to the patio before going to sit down beside Mozzie.

"I can't do this, Mozz," he said shaking his head. "I mean, I'm just getting used to life with this," he motioned to his anklet. "I can't handle them too."

"I don't think you have much of a choice here, Neal," the other man said apologetically.

"I guess not," Neal shrugged.

They fell silent, staring out at the city. Everything seemed so quiet and still from forty feet up. Neal's problems suddenly felt minuscule against the immenseness of Manhattan. He leaned back against his chair and stretched his arms over his head, sighing loudly. Mozzie watched him with curiosity.

And then, without the slightest warning, a high pitched scream shattered the silence of the night. Both men shot to their feet as the continuous screaming was accompanied with the distinct sound of screeching tires. Neal hurled his upper body over the side of the railing, looking directly down at the street below. On the sidewalk, he could make out his mother standing just at the bottom of June's front step. She was screaming, repeating her daughter's name over and over again, after a black van that was quickly driving out of sight. Neal didn't waste a second.

"Mozzie, call 911," he instructed immediately. The other man barely had time to register the words before Neal was through the apartment and halfway down the stairs. He made it to the bottom level and rushed out the door. He took the front steps in a single jump.

"Mom," he called after the woman who had already started down after the street. She turned around and, once the sight of him registered with him, hurried over to him.

"Nick," she breathed. He didn't correct her. "They took her." Her voice was strained, on the verge of tears, but she didn't cry.

"Did you get a good look at any of them?" Neal asked with growing panic.

"No," Kathryn said, shaking her head. "But the van…" she thought back briefly. "Black minivan. New York license plate 977-RAB."

Neal placed a hand on his mother's shoulder. "Mozzie's calling the police. I'm going to call Peter," he insisted. "We're going to find her."

Kathryn nodded slowly, and Neal reached for his phone. It was already ringing, however. Immediately, he answered the call and brought it to his ear.

"Hello," he answered, not hiding the fear that was evident in his voice. There was an amused laugh on the other line.

"Hey there, Caffrey," a familiar voice greeted him. "You lose something?"

"Keller," Neal breathed in recognition. Kathryn's worried eyes flashed over to him. "What do you want?" he questioned immediately. He wasn't going to bargain. Not on this. He would give the man whatever he wanted.

"Come on, Neal," Keller laughed. "Can't we just talk?"

"Where is she?" Neal hissed back. Kathryn's eyes widened.

"Relax," Keller said calmly. "She's fine."

"Where. is. she?" Neal repeated. This wasn't the same as when Keller had taken Peter. Neal had never doubted for a second that, no matter what happened, Peter would be able to take care of himself. He wasn't so sure with Kristen. She was just a kid, and he was well aware of what Keller was capable of.

"You'll get her back," Keller promised, sighing at Neal's forwardness. "As soon as I get what I want."

Neal's chest boiled with anger. He didn't have time to play games. "And what would that be?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Keller only laughed. He ignored Neal's question completely. "I'll be in touch."

The line went dead.

_Feedback is always appreciated!_


	10. Chapter 10

This time, it was Neal who was pacing. He had been circling the same ten foot radius of Peter's office for nearly an hour. His partner was sitting at his desk, staring up at him, clearly at a loss for words, and Kathryn was waiting for them in the conference room. Neal couldn't bring himself to face her. This was his fault. Kristen had gotten into this trouble because he had suddenly landed back in their lives. There was no way around that fact. The consultant ran a hand through his hair and let out an audible sigh.

"We'll find her, Neal," Peter insisted for what must have been the hundredth time that night. Neal's eyes shot up to meet the agent's.

"Can you promise me that?" he questioned with a hint of anger in his voice. Peter's eyes fluttered away in embarrassment. He knew the rules, and so did Neal. They were never supposed to promise anything. Not in their line of work. Things were never guaranteed.

Peter drew a sharp intake of breath and regained his composure. "Yes," he assured the younger man. "I promise. We are going to find her."

Neal stopped his pacing. He gave Peter a sharp nod, and then the two of them made their way into the conference room. Neal passed his mother quickly and took his usual seat at Peter's side. He didn't even give the woman so much as a sideways glance. She didn't want to look at him. He knew that.

"Alright, people," Peter announced to the whole room. All heads turned to face him. "Kristen disappeared a little over an hour ago. Does anybody have a lead on our van?" He looked around the room hopefully. Not to his surprise, Jones stepped forward with information immediately.

"We located it parked in front of Port Authority Bus Station," Jones explained, throwing a picture of the empty vehicle across the table. "It's completely clean."

"You think they're taking her somewhere out of the city?" Kathryn asked worriedly.

"No," Neal confirmed confidently. He kept his eyes focused on Peter. "That's not Keller's style. He wouldn't want to get on a bus or train. Then he's trapped. Besides, it'd be too difficult to get Kristen on unnoticed."

"So this was a misdirect?" Peter questioned. Again, Neal shook his head in disagreement.

"I don't think so," he said slowly. "He knows I wouldn't fall for anything like this…" he began to trail off just as his phone ring. He grabbed it immediately and turned it on speaker phone. "Keller," he greeted coldly.

"Caffrey," the man's voice answered him. "Agent Burke," he continued, knowing all too well that the other man was listening in. "How's that manhunt of yours going?"

"Just tell us where she is," Neal ordered impatiently.

"Like I said, Neal," Keller sighed. "You get the girl back when I get what I want."

"Jesus, Keller," Neal shot back angrily. "Then tell me what you want."

There was silence on the other line, and, for a moment, Neal thought the other man had hung up again.

"You've stolen a lot of things, Neal," Keller continued suddenly. "I want the one thing you ever stole from me back."

Neal racked his brain, trying to think of something, anything, he had every stollen from the man, but he came up empty. "I never stole anything from you, Keller…" he started, but then his eyes wandered down to the picture lying on the table. The sign for Port Authority could be seen just above it's tinted windows. Realization hit as he pictured Kate running past the sign towards a much younger version of himself. Keller was standing several feet away, watching the reunion through narrowed eyes. Neal closed his eyes and rubbed his face in desperation. "Kate," he breathed.

"Precisely," Keller confirmed in amusement. All eyes turned to Neal questioningly. He lowered his eyes and took a step forward.

"Kate's dead, Keller," he said tentatively. "You know that."

"I do," the other man said coldly. "So, I want the next best thing."

The other line fell silent again. Neal waited patiently this time.

"Kate used to wear a necklace. I'm sure you remember it," Keller continued.

"Of course," Neal confirmed. Anyone who knew Kate knew that necklace. "She never took it off."

"And do you know where she got it?" he questioned.

Neal hesitated for a minute. "It was said to be owned by Marie Antoinette. Stollen in 1996 from a French museum…." he started but then trailed off. He had never asked where she had gotten it. The thought was far from comforting.

"Yes," Keller agreed. "But did she manage to get her hands on it?" he asked. Neal didn't answer. He could feel the curious eyes bearing into him around the room, but he remained focus on his phone. "No? You don't know?" Keller laughed.

"No. I don't," Neal admitted in a low growl.

"It was a gift," Keller continued casually. "From me."

All of Neal's worry for Kristen seemed to transform into pure anger in a single instant. He gritted his teeth and forced his hands into fists. Everyone in the room stiffened nervously. Only Peter recognized the bit of hurt that flashed across his partner's eyes. "How generous of you," Neal hissed.

"I thought so," Keller agreed. "But, here's the thing, that necklace, I stole it from a museum nearly fifteen years ago. It's worth over a million dollars and, well, since Kate doesn't need it anymore…"

"You want it back?" Neal questioned in disbelief. Only Keller would sink so low.

"Well, you and your partner, Burke, have left me with limited resources," the other man explained calmly. "I'm going to need that necklace."

"It's not that simple…" Neal protested, but he knew it was a battle he couldn't win.

"You have twenty-four hours, Caffrey," Keller spoke over him. "Bring the necklace to me before then, and you'll get the girl back."

"Fine," Neal agreed coldly. "Just don't hurt her."

Keller laughed cruelly. "I can't make any promises." And again, the line went dead.

A wave of fury washed over Neal. He took his phone from the table, weighed it in his hand for a moment, and then sent it crashing to the far wall with a great deal of force. He stormed out of the conference room without a word. Kathryn watched him leave, but she didn't dare go after him. This was Neal Caffrey's problem, not Nick Halden's. It wasn't her place, and, even if it were, she wouldn't even know where to begin.

Peter, on the other hand, got to his feet at once and followed his partner out of the room. He found him just a few feet away, leaning over the railing of the top floor and looking down onto the bullpen. His head was bowed, and Peter could see that he was shaking. Although, he wasn't sure if it was out of anger or fear. He went to the man's side at once and placed a hand on his shoulder. Neal didn't even raise his head.

"I'm gonna kill him," he said in a shockingly harsh voice. Peter suppressed his surprise and tighten his grip on Neal's shoulder. It was a rarity to see the other man showing his emotions at all. To see him in a state of such wild fury was frightening.

"Neal…" he started calmly, sighing and leaning over the balcony as well. He dropped his hand slowly. "Right now, your mom is a complete mess and Kristen is in serious danger. Trying to get even with Keller isn't going to help either of them." He hesitated for a moment as they both thought about his words. "You can get that necklace?" he questioned, knowing the answer already.

"Yes," Neal answered quickly. "I _can_. But it'll be…" he trailed off. What was the word exactly? It wouldn't be hard. No. Once he got there, getting the necklace would be a piece of cake. It certainly wasn't going to be easy, though. No. This wasn't going to be an enjoyable trip. "Unpleasant," he decided on.

"Look," Peter sighed. "You know how the bureau'll want to handle this." Suddenly, Neal's eyes filled with fear. He had run from and worked with the bureau long enough to know that they didn't bargain. They wouldn't give Keller some expensive piece of stolen merchandise in exchange for the life of an average teenage girl. What kind of message would that send to the public? They would try to track him down and hopefully arrest him before the girl was hurt. If not, then at least they could add murder to their list of charges. There was no bargaining with kidnappers. Not within the walls of the FBI.

"Peter," Neal started. His eyes met his partner's in a desperate plea. "He'll kill her. You know he will."

"I know," Peter agreed with a nod. "That's why we're going to handle this outside of the bureau." Neal look at him with surprised appreciation. "I'm assuming you'll have to get out of your radius for this."

"Yeah," Neal confirmed. He half expected Peter to pull out the key to the anklet at that very moment and let him go.

"I'll go with you. As soon as we're done here with the official report." Peter's eyes fell on the conference room, now busily in motion. His eyes met Neal's forcefully. "I know you don't have the most faith in the bureau, but…"

"I trust you," Neal finished for him. Peter was right. When it came to something as important as his sister, he had no faith in the bureau's ability to find her. But for him, Peter had always been an entirely separate entity. If there was anyone he trusted with this, it was him.

* * *

They spent the next couple of hours in the conference room with the majority of the white collar division staff as well as the missing persons team. Agent Rice had been assigned to head the investigation, since Peter and Neal were clearly too emotionally involved. It was just another reason why Neal was so grateful for Peter's promise to work off the record. Rice was good enough at her job, but they both knew from experience that, in the end, her number one priority was herself. Her sympathetic smile and determined words may have shown genuine concern for Kristen's well being, but all she truly cared about was adding another successful case to her resume. And, at least for Neal, that was enough of a guarantee that he would ever see his sister alive again.

When they were finally excused from their meeting, Neal and Peter immediately broke off from the conversing group and headed for the agent's office. Kathryn was standing at the door of the conference room, and, for a moment, Neal was going to pass right by her. He hadn't been able to speak to his mother since they had reached the office.

"Neal," the woman's shaking voice stopped them both dead in their tracks. She reached for her son's hand and gave it a small squeeze. Neal broke at the single word. He could see how much pain it caused her to speak his unfamiliar name.

"Everything's okay," he assured her, eyeing Peter as he spoke. "We'll find her." Bother their eyes wandered to the group of impressive agents standing just a few feet away. Neither of them seemed convinced. Neal leaned in to her ear and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Peter and I will take care of this." Kathryn seemed to understand that loud and clear. She nodded, and the two of them disappeared into Peter's office.

"Where is it?" Peter asked, turning to Neal the instant the door closed behind him. The consultant hesitated for a moment. "Come on, Neal. You're not holding out on me. Not now."

Neal nodded. "Kate was wearing it when she…" he swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. Peter remained patient. "They didn't recover a lot, but the necklace managed to survive." They both shuddered at the memory of the aftermath of Kate's death. Peter hadn't let Neal anywhere near the plane, even after the danger of smoke and debris had long passed. But they had both been there to watch as the scene was inspected and cleared out. Neal was sitting on the back of police car, answering questions. His eyes had been fixed on the plane since the explosion. "They gave everything they could salvage to Kate's only living relative." He sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Her mother. Rebecca Moreau."

"Is that a bad thing?" Peter questioned hesitantly. He couldn't imagine any woman alive being able to resist his partner's charm.

Neal frowned. "Peter, you only knew Kate when she was dating me," he started, shaking his head. "Before we met, she had a bright future. She had a strong education, wealthy parents, and she was working for one of the most powerful men in Manhattan. Unlike mine, her job with Adler was legitimate. After he left, she would have had no trouble finding a new job, but once Mozzie and I pulled her into our lifestyle, she didn't really have a chance. She started fighting with her mom constantly, always about me. And then, eventually, they just stopped talking altogether. In the end, she realized she had to choose between me and her mother, and she chose me. When I went to prison, Rebecca expected Kate to come running back home…"

"But she didn't," Peter finished, knowing the story entirely too well.

"No," Neal shook his head. "And then she disappeared. While Mozzie and I were doing our own investigating up here, Rebecca had an entire team of PI's out looking for her. We found her first though, and…" he trailed off. "Well, you know what happened." Peter simply nodded.

"Rebecca blames you for her daughter's death?" he questioned knowingly.

"She knows I didn't blow up that plane, but, to her, I might as well have." Peter could see the guilt returning to his consultant's eyes. It had been nearly a year since Kate's death, and he was finally getting over it. It killed him to see the emotions from the day of the girl's death come rushing back. "She hates me, Peter. She won't even look me in the eye, let alone help me with this."

"Well, you're going to have to try," Peter said sternly. Did he really need to remind Neal what was on the line here? "This isn't about Kate, Neal. It's about Kristen."

Slowly, Neal nodded his understanding. "You're right," he admitted.

"Let's get going. The sooner we get that necklace, the sooner we get Kristen home safe."

"And then what?"

Peter was already at the door, but Neal hesitated at his spot by the window.

"Peter, even if we get Kristen back safely, Keller will still be out there…"

"We'll worry about that later, okay?" Peter assured. Everything he had learned from being a federal agent warned him against this, but he knew very well that everyone still hunched over case files in the other room had only one person on their mind: Keller. They wanted to catch him. Kristen was just their easiest way to get to him.

"Yeah," Neal agreed. Finally, he followed Peter out of the office, but a new fear had risen in his chest. It had been a year since he had last seen Rebecca Moreau. One year since she had thrown him out of her daughter's funeral.

_As always, feedback is always appreciated and thank you all so much for reading!_


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